A few of my friends went to find theirs a while back. That was
the last time I ever saw them. It’s said that you never return because it has
everything you want. The real world cannot compete.

I
had a factory job, making soft toys for children. It was tiring, but it put
food on my plate, and there was a comfort in it. That is, until I was informed
today that I’d been replaced by a robot. Such is life. I phoned my mother, and
long story short, we argued, with some rather unpleasant words exchanged. I
hung up on her, jobless and hopeless. Almost hopeless. Today was the excuse I
needed to find my “Room of Desire”.

There’s
an abandoned castle not far from home. It’s a grand old thing. Where you’ll
find it, they say.

I trudged up to its ancient doors. They were huge, not least
intimidating. The place generally didn’t emit a welcoming aura. Upon entering,
I was faced dimly lit stone corridors, seemingly endless, left and right.
Instinct told me to leave, but curiosity ordered me to turn left. I walked
steadily, seeing no doors, only the occasional torch hung from the wall.

I
eventually gave in after finding nothing but more corridor, turning back with
the grave feeling that I was being watched. I broke into a frantic sprint, but
I never passed the main doors. I should have. In a sheer panic, I reached for
my phone, but all it read was ‘No Signal’.

It
seemed like hours before I finally found a door. My heart raced, but they say
you’ll know when you find your door. This particular one didn’t seem very
inviting. I opened it nonetheless. It contained a small enclosure with a dark
green swamp in the centre. Instantaneously, a horde of tiny, scampering beasts
came billowing towards me.

I ran back out into what was now a vast hall,
completely empty save for an assortment of doors around the edges. My choice
had to be instant, or these hairy fiends would likely devour me, so I went for
the one in the far corner.

It had now been months of this insanity. My
phone died a while ago. Nothing to eat. I’d been traipsing this godforsaken,
shape-shifting place, only to find never-ending filth and stench. Until now.

I
stand face-to-face with another door, but this one isn’t damp and rotting; it’s
fresh, with a gleaming handle. I know this is my door. I don’t know whether to
laugh or cry.

I think in the end I scream before grabbing the handle with
ravenous longing. My eyes widen when I see what’s inside; a single noose
hanging from the ceiling, just for me.